To be continued ...

I tried hard not to cry. I looked at the clock, saw how close it was to my time, turned back around to my station and wiped down the last bits of lemon and egg yolk. Tulia walked over and said "it's time, isn't it?" I smiled and didn't look at her.

My last day at the bakery. After six months of going in twice a week for a few hours a day it is hard to know that when I walked away from the kitchen today, I would not be returning. At least not for a while. There were encouraging words. Questions about what I would do next. Compliments. And thanks. And then I was done. Augusto was in the locker room as I threw my last sullied towel into one basket and my relatively clean apron into another.

Today was simple. I made frosting for our German Chocolate cakes. And made the lemon syrup for our lemon cake. I then creamed the butter and started the sugar mixture for our Swiss Meringue Buttercream Frosting. In between I chatted with Gerard about everything from sour cherries (frozen vs. fresh) to crumb cakes.

Soon I will sit down and write down all that I have learned before I truly forget it all. This morning on my way in Keith asked what were the top three things I learned from my time and here they are:

(1) Patience. A lesson learned many times over from the most simple action of scooping cookies to making yellow cake. And with that case, in particular, I remember being so anxious to move to the next step that I didn't properly scrape the bowl and was left with chunks of butter that I then had to try to smooth out into the batter.

(2) Chocolate is messy. No matter which way you cut it. If it's frozen, melting, room temperature, a frosting, a cake, a custard, a pudding, or a biscotti. It is MESSY. And I have a respect for chocolatiers for my teeny little bit of time spent with that confection.

(3) The importance of colleagues. Working side by side with bakers of all kinds improves your work. Not only what you make in a kitchen but the way you make it.

Many more things to write but I feel my brain scattered. I'm still too close to the melancholy to think of anything more to say. To be continued ...